Fingertips
by Tzani
Summary: Buffy goes dancing to forget her troubles. Post Gone, S/B.


TITLE: Fingertips  
AUTHOR: Tzani  
DISTRIBUTION: http://www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=154134  
RATING: PG-13  
DISLAIMER: Sunnydale and its inhabitants belong to ME, not to me.  
SUMMARY: Buffy goes dancing to forget her troubles. Post Gone, S/B  
NOTES: Title and inspiration from Poe's song Fingertips. I tried to go with a theme here, I hope it worked.  
FEEDBACK: tzani@hotpop.com Please send constructive criticism, I not only welcome it, I would appreciate it.  
  
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For three weeks, Spike spent his evenings in the corner of the Bronze. He worked his way through pints of beers and packs of fags, but his focus was on the dance floor. It didn't matter how much he rationalized his presence, it wasn't the atmosphere that drew him there every night. It was Buffy.  
  
She was pressed up against a tall, dark haired man, just like he found her every night. It was never the same boy, but he always towered over her, his hair shades darker than her own. Her body slithered as she danced, the sensual rhythm building between them.  
  
Spike watched as her hands trailed up her sides. Her fingers danced to the same rhythm as her body, but the pace was slower, more sensual. By the time she had her arms wrapped around herself, in a gentle hug, her partner had reached out to her. He touched her waist, letting his fingers splay out and take over. He pulled her in, and she moved with him, turning so that she kept the dance. With her back to him, and her hands swinging free, she swayed to the music. Her eyes were closed, but her eyes were often closed.  
  
He bent down to her; let his cheek gently graze hers. He traced the line of her jaw, set free by the cut of her hair. She stepped away from him, turning back as she did, so that they were face to face once again. His hand moved with her, it now moved over the curve of her shoulder. His other hand had not moved, adjusting itself to her twisting and turning. His fingertips still held her at her waist, a gentle and possessive touch. Her own fingertips returned to the dance, tracing the rhythms that originated at her thighs. A small smile reached Buffy's lips, and her partner smiled at the thought that he had caught her.  
  
But Spike recognized her look, the withdrawal to another place. He knew that if he didn't make his move tonight, he might never find another chance. He stalked across the dance floor and pushed into the small space between the couple. Her eyes opened, but her expression was now unreadable. His back to the other man, Spike drew his fingertips up the sides of Buffy's thighs. She took a step closer, so that their bodies touched, but she didn't reach for him. The figure behind him started to intervene, but Buffy shook her head at him, motioning for him to find a new partner, and he walked off disappointed. Spike started to sway with the music, and she took her cues from him, their rhythms falling into sync. She reached out to him, letting her fingertips draw circles on his forearms and biceps. His hands winded their way up and down her sides, finally resting on her hips.  
  
"Are you feeling satisfied yet, pet?" He whispered into her ear, his tongue quickly flicking the lobe. He let his fingers tap out the rhythms of the music, lightly jumping across the top of her skirt.  
  
Buffy didn't answer, she just pulled him in and pressed up against his body. She let her fingers trail up under the sleeves of his t-shirt, caressing the soft skin of his triceps. She loved the gentle feel of his muscles; they felt hard and cold, but she knew how delicate he could be. When he wanted to be.  
  
"You know they can never give you what you want."  
  
She was sure of that. But she wasn't sure if he could either. Or maybe she wasn't sure if she could ever give him what he wanted.  
  
Her fingers dipped into the lines of his arms, and she traced random patterns there. Buffy moved her fingers to touch his chest, feeling the sharp planes beneath the well-worn cotton. She gently scratched him as she leaned back, letting his arms control her balance. Her weight shifted again as Spike pulled her back towards him, and she let her fingers stay still on his chest. They were separated only by the layers of clothing and her small fingertips pressing between them.  
  
His arms moved around to her back. He dipped his head and pressed his lips to her neck, trailing his kisses up to her jaw, and then back to her ear.  
  
"You can try though. Spend every night with a new boy; I won't stop you. Tease them, tease yourself. But, at the end of the night, we both know where you need to be."  
  
And with that, Spike took a step back and walked off the dance floor.  
  
-end- 


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